


lovin' you's a bloodsport

by xzael



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Autistic Will Graham, Bloodplay, Canon-Typical Violence, Dark Will, Dialogue Heavy, Knifeplay, M/M, Murder Husbands, Will Finds Out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-05
Updated: 2019-07-05
Packaged: 2020-06-03 02:24:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19454389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xzael/pseuds/xzael
Summary: "I tried to kiss Alana Bloom."For some reason, Hannibal feels the need to take a page out of Will's book and avoids making eye contact with him.Strange,he thinks to himself."Come in."-S1Ep8, Fromage, re-imagined with Hannigram.





	lovin' you's a bloodsport

**Author's Note:**

> hello! inspiration struck me while i was watching fromage so i wrote this, even though i haven t finished hannibal. please forgive me for any inaccuracies due to this!  
> i was listening to [psylla](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-XcK3uDpS9w) and [bloodsport '15](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XheklX5csjc) (hence the title) while writing this, if you'd like to have a soundtrack while reading.

"I tried to kiss Alana Bloom."

For some reason, Hannibal feels the need to take a page out of Will's book and avoids making eye contact with him. _Strange_ , he thinks to himself. 

"Come in." As if Will hadn't already began to settle in, removing his coat.

Hannibal leads him into the dining room, pleased to see that Tobias vacated the premises. 

"Did you have a guest?"

"A colleague. You just missed him."

"Didn't finish his dinner." Will observes. His eyes continue to wander all over the dining room.

"An urgent call of some sort." Hannibal shuts the glass doors and sees footprints trailing through the snow. "He had to leave suddenly. This benefits you, as I have dessert for two." He frowns at the leftovers on the table. _How wasteful._

Will dutifully follows Hannibal into the kitchen.

"Tell me," Hannibal opens the oven, clenching the handle with more force than necessary. He pulls out the dessert. "what was Alana's reaction?" 

"She said she wouldn't be good for me, and I wouldn't be good for her." There are obvious traces of annoyance in Will's voice, but Hannibal also detects something more. 

* * *

_"You avoided being in a room alone_ _with me, essentially, since I met_ _you." Will turns away from the fireplace and slowly walks towards Alana. "You were smooth about it, too."_

_"Evidently not smooth enough." She admits._

_"Now you’re making house calls." Will muses._

_"It’s just a drive-by. On my way_ _home." Alana's voice is just above a whisper. Will knows this is an excuse, a rather poor one. "Since you’re not my patient." Barely a foot of space remains between them._

_"No, I’m not." Will moves even closer and attempts to put his hand on Alana's cheek, but she turns away._

_"Will, don't do this." She steps back, and he tries to pretend to not be as hurt as he is._

_"You have to stop thinking so much." He urges._

_"The way that I am isn't compatible with the way that-"_

_"The way that I am."_ Of course. _Will thinks bitterly. He takes no offense to this. He'd have to be a fool to expect her to think otherwise._

_"I wouldn't be good for you. You wouldn't be good for me," She puts even more space between her and Will. "and I wouldn't be able to stop analyzing because I have this professional curiosity about you and-"_

_"Cut the bullshit with me, Alana." Will snaps. "What are you not saying to me?"_

_"Are you sure you want to hear this?"_

_"I am sick and tired of people treating me like I am going to break at any second." He clenches and unclenches his jaw. "Yes, tell me."_

_"You lack a sense of stability in your life. I'm not the one to help you with that." Will's gaze snaps up, and she traps him into making eye contact with her. "In fact, I can't."_

_"What do you mean?" He presses._

_"Someone already is. Why would I undo their work?" Alana glances towards the door. "I'm gonna go ahead and go now. Goodnight, Will." He gives her a nod of acknowledgement, despite her cryptic message._

* * *

"I don’t disagree." Hannibal decides to not comment on Will's withdrawal of information from him, at least, not yet. "She would feel an obligation to her field of study to observe you. And you would resent her for it." He plates their desserts.

"I know." It is, as always, disheartening to Hannibal when Will's frustration is let out on _him_ rather than the offending party.

"Wondering then why you tried to kiss her and felt compelled to drive an hour in the snow to tell me about it." He fetches cream from the fridge to continue to avoid looking at Will. He fears what emotions his face might reveal.

"Well, I wanted to kiss her since I met her." Will confesses, smirking. "She's very kissable."

"You waited a long time," Hannibal shoots back a fake smile, not caring whether or not Will would fall for it. "which suggests you tried to kiss her for a reason, in addition to wanting to." He looks down at the bowl of cream he is whisking.

"I heard an animal trapped in my chimney. I broke through the wall to get it out. Didn’t find anything inside." Will recounts. Hannibal risks looking at him as he speaks after he dollops cream onto the plates. "Alana showed up. She looked at me, maybe her face changed, I don’t know. She knew."

"What did she know, Will?" 

"There was no animal in the chimney. It was only in my head." Hannibal continues to add garnishes. 

"I sleepwalk. I get headaches. I am hearing things." Will walks up to the counter. "I feel unstable." Hannibal's eyes flick up to meet Will's.

"You are." He affirms. "But how could you not be, given what you put yourself through." Will begins to pace.

"I save lives." 

"And that feels good."

"Generally speaking, yeah."

"What about your life?" Will stops in his tracks, like a deer in the headlights. _It is not the first time in his life that Will has felt like prey,_ Hannibal ponders. _Nor will it be the last._

"Huh?"

"I'm your friend, Will. I don't care about the lives you save, I care about your life, and your life lacks stability." Will slowly drags his hands over his face and sighs.

"I'm experiencing hallucinations-"

"And what about what _else_ Alana said to you?" Hannibal walks to the other side of the counter to properly face Will. 

As much as he can, with the latter's eyes focusing on the floor. 

"I don't know what you're talking about." Will mumbles. 

"There is no point in lying to me." Hannibal gently places his hand on Will's shoulder. He shudders ever so slightly, but enough for Hannibal to notice. "As I stated previously, I am your friend." Will laughs pitifully.

"She told me that I lack _stability_. As if I didn't already know." He refuses to return Hannibal's gaze. "Then she said she couldn't help me with that, because someone already was." 

"Why don't you believe her?" 

"What the hell do you mean _why_ ? Why not?" Will raises his voice and attempts to shake Hannibal's hand off of him. His grip only tightens. " _No one_ is providing me stability."

"Is this not stability? Our…relationship?" Hannibal objects. "The conversations we share shed light on the darkness you face daily."

"Awfully poetic way for you to counter my self depreciation, Doctor."

"Awfully lazy attempt for you to distance yourself from the truth, Will." He scoffs.

"Why do you even try with me?" Will's tone is provoking, but any intimidation is lost by the insecurity evident in his expression. "What's in it for you to psychoanalyze me?"

"I am _not_ psychoanalyzing you." Hannibal counters. "What must I do to prove to you that my actions come solely from a place of concern?" _Anything at all._ The words go unsaid, but he implies it in his tone, hoping that Will catches it.

Will is at a loss for words, rapidly opening and closing his mouth, reminiscent of a fish out of water.

"Tell me what you see, Will." Hannibal drops his hand to his side. "What is my design?"

* * *

_I avoid eye contact with Will Graham while he speaks about Alana Bloom. What happened between them..._ upsets _me._

_I covertly check outside to make sure my previous visitor has left. I am satisfied. I do not want to be interrupted._

_I prepare dessert as Will talks, continuing to be avoidant. This is unusual for me, especially around him._

_I am hiding something from him, behind my fake smile and neutral tone of voice._

_This is my design._

_But it is incomplete._

_It lacks…_

Stability.

* * *

Will opens his eyes. 

Hannibal has not moved from where he stands.

"What did you see?" He demands. Will's mouth feels dry. 

"I-I don't know. I don't understand, Hannibal." He stutters.

"But you do, Will." Hannibal murmurs. The way he says his name makes Will shiver.

"Not completely."

"You are the object of my affection. My skin burned hearing what happened between you and Alana." He finally admits. "Shamefully, I felt relieved that she rejected you. I want you to be mine." He goes to put his hands on Will's hips, and he lets him.

"There is something else. Something else that _crawls_ beneath your skin." Will accuses. "Something other than lust." 

"What I feel for you isn't merely just _lust_ , Will." He pushes the younger man against the counter, and he grunts. "That would be undignified."

"Then what is it?" Will whispers into his ear.

"In every sense of the word, I wish to completely _consume_ you. If you wish to leave, do so now. I understand." Hannibal replies, his fingers applying enough pressure to bruise. "I can disappear from your life as swiftly as I entered it. Otherwise, I fear I may never let you go." Will makes no attempt to move, his gaze still fixed on Hannibal. _Good._

"I can't do this. Not-not until I discover what that other ache of yours is."

"But you already have." Hannibal cups his cheek with his right hand, his grip on Will's waist still firm. He leans into the touch. Will hesitates before finally speaking. 

"They're not surgical trophies, are they?" He keeps his eyes tightly shut. "And you weren't being metaphorical when you said you-you want to... _consume_ me." Will opens his eyes and looks up at Hannibal.

"What- _who_ did you serve for dinner tonight?" To Will's surprise, his voice does not falter.

"Does it really matter?" Hannibal smiles, but it does not quite reach his eyes. "Tell me, does who I _truly_ am _bother_ you _?"_

"I suppose not. But I know it should."

"What am I to make of you, Will Graham?" That earns him a chuckle.

"Hopefully not something overly pretentious." He half-jokes, half-pleads nervously. "Something _me_. Southern food. Or is that too lowbrow for your refined tastes?" 

"I wouldn't dare kill you. That would deeply upset me. Unless you wish to tell Jack that I'm-"

"The Chesapeake Ripper? What has he done for me for him to deserve that information?" Will laments, and Hannibal is taken aback. "To finally receive that gratification he's been seeking for _years_?"

"Nothing but force you to endure psychological abuse by your own hand." He provides. "I have been completely honest with you, Will. I care about you."

"What do you want from me, Hannibal?" Will breathes, finally returning the other man's eye contact.

"I want you to uncover the ache crawling under _your_ skin." With his other hand, Hannibal presses a scalpel into Will's palm and closes his fist around it. He wonders where the doctor was hiding it. "Do what you please to me." 

"I don't want to hurt you." Hannibal clicks his tongue. 

"Stop lying to me." Will drags the tip of the blade across Hannibal's throat lightly, only enough to scratch the skin. His breath audibly hitches in his throat. Slowly, Will brings the scalpel up to Hannibal's face and along his cheek, as if he were stroking it with his hand. 

"No need to hold back." Hannibal encourages. With that, Will slices a shallow cut into his skin. Not deep enough to scar, but enough to bleed. It will stop soon, even without applied pressure. Hannibal lets out the breath he was holding. 

"Somehow you're the one in control of this situation, yet I'm the one with the knife." Will says offhandedly.

"Do you want to be in control?" Hannibal guides the scalpel to his jugular with his palm enclosing Will's fist.

"Not anymore." Will turns his fist and nudges the scalpel into Hannibal's hand. 

He accepts it and mirrors Will's actions, dragging the blade against his throat. The cut he leaves on Will's face is identical to his, save for the fact that it is on the opposite cheek. He drops the scalpel and brushes his thumb over the cut. He sucks the blood off of his finger, never once blinking or straying his eyes away from Will's. Will follows suit, with some reluctance before he licks the blood off.

"You are _mine_ , Will Graham." Hannibal growls. "And you will be no one else's." 

"No one else would want me." Will grins. "No one else is as fucked up as us."

"Do you understand what you are to me?" Hannibal presses his thumb into Will's cut, and he winces. "What you've done to me? How you've _ruined_ me?"

"Pray tell, doctor." Will grits through his teeth. 

"Mano širdis. Mon cœur. Mein Herz. Il mio cuore. Mi corazón. My- (My heart, in Lithuanian, French, German, Italian, and Spanish)"

"Votre cœur. (Your heart.)" Will interrupts slyly. "Qué apropiado.(How appropriate.)" 

"Tu ne manques jamais de me surprendre. (You never fail to surprise me.)" Hannibal smears the blood on Will's face down his cheek, a smile on his own. This time, it reaches his eyes. "¿Dónde aprendiste estas idiomas? (Where did you learn these languages?)" 

"Francés en Louisiana. Espagnol partout. (French in Louisiana. Spanish all over.)" Yet again, Will copies Hannibal's actions. This time, without hesitation.

"Any more linguistic surprises waiting for me?" He teases.

"Some Latin. Conversational at best. As conversational as you can be with a dead language. ASL, out of necessity." Hannibal remembers to ask what he means by that later. 

"I will teach you Lithuanian." 

"Of course you will." Hannibal opts to run his fingers through Will's curls. Their cuts are beginning to clot and the blood is drying. His touch is reciprocated by Will clutching his face with both hands, amusing Hannibal.

"This is _so_ unhealthy."

"I never claimed to be an effective or conventional psychiatrist." Will laughs, his expression free of any reservations. "May I kiss you, Will?" 

" _Oh_. I-Yes." He rests his hands down on either side of Hannibal's neck. He grips Will's hair tightly and pulls him forward, kissing him softly. Hannibal wraps his other arm around Will's waist to bring him even closer. "Where is this going?"

"Right now, only as far as you're willing." He kisses him again, and they press their foreheads together. "But I want to make sure you understand that this isn't simply a _fling_. There's no going back on this, Will."

"The blood made that a little obvious. A pact."

"A _promise_." Will initiates the kiss this time, and Hannibal is pleasantly surprised.

"I don't intend to break it." 

"What _do_ you intend to do?" 

"How direct do you want me to be?"

"You can be as frank as you see fit." 

"I don't want to have sex tonight." Will blushes. Hannibal finds it endearing. "As cliché as it is, I want it to be special."

"In the meantime, how do you feel about acting on your other... _urge_?" Hannibal proposes. Will licks his lips involuntarily.

"What did you have in mind?"

"First, we must indulge in dessert."

* * *

“Nine. Nine times. I can count the number of times on _two_ hands that I’ve been dumped by a psychiatrist.” Franklyn is as frustrated as Hannibal anticipated.

“I’m sorry Franklyn, but I think you should see another doctor.” Hannibal keeps his tone neutral and avoids eye contact.

“You’re giving me a referral?

“Yes, I am.”

“You were a referral!” Franklyn exclaims, hands flying up.

“I am also a part of the problem.” He rolls his eyes at Hannibal. “You focus too much on your therapist, and not enough on your therapy.” 

“You lost respect for me because I wouldn’t report Tobias, didn’t you?” Franklyn narrows his eyes.

“Report Tobias for what?” Will almost laughs at the timely entrance, but he remains quiet as to not draw attention to his... _hiding place._

_“You’re joking, right?”_

_“I assure you that if no one is looking for you, they won’t find you.”_

_“This isn’t a game of hide-and-seek, Hannibal!”_

_“Will, either get behind the curtain or hide behind that support beam. The choice is yours.”_

“Tobias.” Franklyn rises from his chair shakily. Hannibal, keeping his eyes on Tobias, also stands up.

“I came to say goodbye, Franklyn.” Tobias walks towards the two of them, jacket folded over his arm and blood running down the side of his face.

“What do you mean, goodbye? Oh my god.” Realization sets into Franklyn’s face. “Oh, my god, is that your blood?”

“I just killed two men.” Tobias replies, evading the question. “The police came to question me about the murder.” It takes a few seconds for Franklyn to muster up the courage to respond.

“OK…you have to give yourself up right now. This plane is going _down._ Let it have a controlled descent.” He walks closer to Tobias and gestures with his hands as he speaks. “We can get you back up in the air again. There’s rehabilitation for everyone.”

“Franklyn, I want you to leave right now.” Hannibal interjects impatiently.

“Stay right where you are, Franklyn.” Tobias demands.

“You’ve done a horrible thing, and...I know...that you wish to _God_ that you didn’t. And there’s nothing you can do to change that. Only thing you can change is your future. Right?” Franklyn looks back at Hannibal for support, but he says nothing. “No? You’re probably scared. You probably feel like you’re all alone.”

“I’m not alone.” Tobias insists, shaking his head. 

“That’s right. You’re not alone.” Franklyn mistakenly thinks he’s made progress. “Nothing has happened in our relationship that you and I can’t-” Fed up with waiting, Hannibal steps up to him and swiftly breaks his neck, letting his body drop to the floor. Will wishes he could’ve seen it. 

“I was looking forward to that.” Tobias says, displeased. 

“I saved you the trouble.” Hannibal braces himself for the coming fight. 

* * *

Tobias throws his jacket off to the side and lets a steel cello string uncoil from his palm. He swings it in a circle, taunting Hannibal, who skillfully dodges his strikes. Tobias quickly advances on him and manages to land a few hits, knocking Hannibal back with a kick. Will wants to help, he wants to protect him, but he promised not to come out too early. 

Hannibal throws Tobias off by pushing the ladder in his path, but he quickly regains his footing and lassos Hannibal’s arm with the string. He resists being reeled in, steel cutting through his clothing and slicing his forearm. He throws a punch with his opposite arm, but Tobias dodges and shoves Hannibal. Hannibal picks up a table and breaks the top of it on Tobias’ shoulder, glass shattering and raining down on the floor. He ducks down to avoid a punch and grabs Tobias, headbutting him before throwing him onto his desk. 

Tobias grabs a letter opener, but Hannibal tackles him to the floor before he is even able to strike. Tobias sweeps his leg and kicks him in the face, swinging at him wildly with the blade. He lands a punch and stabs Hannibal’s thigh. He cries out in pain, and Will goes against his promise, pulling the curtain back ever so slightly so he can see the fight.

Tobias pulls the blade out as he grabs Hannibal by the throat and forces him onto the desk. He pushes back against Tobias and turns his head to look for a weapon. He grabs a pen and stabs Tobias, who drops the letter opener in shock. 

Hannibal gets onto his feet and punches Tobias only for him to be punched in return, and kicked in the stomach. He swings twice, the first one landing but the second successfully blocked. Hannibal punches Tobias in the back and knees him in the stomach. He slaps him across the face, but gets the wind knocked out of him by two successive hits to the chest. Tobias advances on him and punches him in the throat, and Will can’t help but wince. 

Hannibal swings his arm, and Tobias blocks it with ease. He lets Hannibal get a few punches in, but he hardly looks fazed. He grabs him, punching him in the back and kneeing his stomach, throwing Hannibal against the ladder. 

Hannibal looks up, blood dripping out of his mouth. Tobias is smiling at him viciously. He pulls his shoulder back for a punch, and Hannibal ducks out of the way, Tobias’ fist going through a gap between rungs before his face slams into the ladder. Hannibal dislocates his arm and Tobias screams in agony. He sluggishly attempts a series of punches, which Hannibal easily dodges. He promptly jabs Tobias in the throat, and he falls to his knees, gasping for air. He turns to face the windows and locks eyes with Will.

“Do you wish to do the honors?” Hannibal pulls a handkerchief out of his pocket and holds it out for him.

“Of course.” Will replies, grinning madly. He walks over and grabs the cloth. “This statue, I assume?” Hannibal simply nods in agreement. Will wraps the handkerchief around the statue and picks it up, struggling slightly with its unexpected weight. He trudges over to Tobias, still doubled over on the floor. Will brings the stag above his head, and slams it down onto Tobias’, killing him instantly with blunt force. He drops the statue on the ground and looks at Hannibal eagerly. He knocks the table the statue was previously resting on down.

“Want this back?” Will folds the handkerchief sloppily.

“Keep it.” Hannibal smirks. “A souvenir.”

* * *

Half an hour later, a forensics team is surveying the crime scene, snapping pictures and examining evidence. Tobias Budge and Franklyn Froideveaux are both zipped up in body bags. Thankfully, Katz, Price, and Zeller aren’t on the scene. However, Jack Crawford strolls in. Hannibal and Will look at each other and both sigh, the former sitting at his desk chair and the latter sitting on his desk.

“Tobias Budge killed two Baltimore Police officers, nearly killed an FBI special agent, and after all of that, his first stop is here, at your office.” Jack questions.

“He came to kill my patient.” Hannibal replies. 

“Your patient. Is that who Budge was serenading?” Will speculates.

“I don’t know. Franklyn knew more than he was telling me. He told Mr. Budge that he didn’t have to kill anymore.” A pause, to feign distress. “And then he broke Franklyn’s neck, and then he attacked me.”

“You killed him?” Jack inquires. 

“I did.” Will clarifies. 

“What the hell were you doing in Hannibal’s office while this was happening, anyway?” Jack makes no effort to keep his voice down.

“After Budge fled, I panicked. I didn’t know where else to go. What else to do. Franklyn’s session was already in progress, so Hannibal had me wait in the patient exit.” Will supplies. “I ran in when I heard him yelling, but neither of them noticed me. I...I killed Budge with that statue. Hannibal was on the verge of losing consciousness.” There is a long silence before Jack speaks up again.

“Just...make sure to give your statement.” He turns his back on the two and walks away, clearly not wanting to deal with the current situation. 

* * *

“How do you feel, Will?” Hannibal asks once Jack is a safe distance away.

“Like you’ve dragged me into your world.” He announces frankly.

“It is _our_ world now. And I do appreciate the company.” Will smiles slightly and Hannibal’s gaze flicks down to his lips.

“What do you want for dinner tonight?”

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! please leave kudos and a comment with feedback if you liked the story! if you didn t like it, let me know how i could improve!


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